


Fading Light of Day

by Elandil



Series: Sending Out Flares verse [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: AU of an AU, Darker than it seems, Harry demands it!, Minor Character Death, No Beta - We Die Like Illiterates, Now they just need to find a necromancer, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Semi-graphic description of character death, Sky!Harry, The Arcobaleno will be a family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:55:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21526336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elandil/pseuds/Elandil
Summary: AU of my Sending out Flares story- It a timeline where Luce could hold the Arcobaleno and Kawahira was never desperate, no one ever solved the conflict in Harry's soul. Now, 10 years later, the time has come for him to finally meet his Elements and no one is happy.Or: How do you learn to care when even life has thrown you away? Even with family, the path to recovery is long and some scars need to be cut open before they can heal.
Series: Sending Out Flares verse [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1537333
Comments: 40
Kudos: 615





	1. First Contact

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hi guys, this is the au story I said I was writing. Just a warning, it will be a little darker than the main story (probably) and it wont be updated as often I'm afraid.
> 
> Anyone waiting for the next chapter of Sending Out Flares, that should be up tomorrow, and I'm sorry for the delay.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Go to any society on the planet and you would find stories of the supernatural. Whether it was ghosts, demons or even just humans with supernatural powers, there was always something. For the Mafia, a world where extraordinary abilities were par for the course, it was no different. Just look at the Vongola and the supposed curse of Deamon Spade over the decades and you’d get a good idea.

For the Arcobaleno… well, some would say that they _were_ the ghost story of the Mafia.

On Reborn’s part, he preferred to believe that there was no life after this one. Given his profession, it was the only way he was able to truly sleep at night. No one wanted to believe that there was an entire host of pissed off former victims waiting for them after death.

That wasn’t to say that he didn’t enjoy a good ghost story however. One of the more sedate hobbies of the Arcobaleno was to gather around a fire with plenty of good alcohol and attempt to terrify the others with the horror stories they had picked up on their travels. With the lackey involved, it was always an interesting experience, either from the former civilian’s overblown reactions or the fact that he was a surprisingly good story teller. As such, the Hitman was rather well versed in the stories of the underworld, even those of the Mafia’s more obscure societies such as Britain.

The most interesting of the English stories was that of a cursed house in the middle of what would normally be classed as suburban hell. Normally, the little town in Surry would never have even registered on the radar of the Mafia had it not been for an unreasonably large bounty placed on the head of one Vernon Dursley, a middle aged money launderer working for an off shoot of the Estraneo Famiglia. After those creeps had been dealt with, there had been a mad scrabble to collect the floating assets by several interested parties and apparently this button pusher had managed to piss off someone high up in the food chain.

All of that was fairly simple as those things went so no one had paid it any notice, until the hitman sent after the man failed. And then the next one. And the next. Not only did they fail to kill the civilian, but they all came away with substantial injuries to their Flames and next to no memory of what exactly had happened to them after they entered the city. The most information that any of the failed assassins had been able to provide had been that she had heard the crying of a child just before everything went blank. There was nothing else.

The job had become something like an urban legend amongst contract killers and, after each failed attempt, the price rose. And that was why he was here now, standing in the rain and attempting to ignore the way that Leon was trying to bury beneath his skin for any trace of warmth. God he hated the English weather. He wasn’t feeling too generous towards a certain Miser at the moment either.

To be fair, it wasn’t entirely due to Viper’s greed that he had taken this job, there was just something about an impossible mark that appealed to his pride as the world’s greatest Hitman. Though the blackmail certainly helped.

As it was, he was now using the gloom provided by the ever present cloud cover to slip down the mundane street, sticking to the shadows in order to avoid any concerned onlookers. There were many issues caused by their cursed bodies and, while having the appearance of a toddler could be a great asset while attempting to slip away after a hit, he would always despise the way that people saw him and immediately assumed incompetence. He had worked damned hard for his title, clawing his way up from the very pits of the underworld to the pinnacle of respect, all for it to have been stolen by the bastard in the iron hat. Although he would never say as much out loud, there was always one bullet tucked away in the pocket closest to his heart, on his darkest nights, even he couldn’t be sure just who it was intended for.

Off in the distance, a dog started howling and the Hitman froze.

For such a fabled job, his journey so far had been nothing beyond ordinary. In fact, the whole thing was starting to set his teeth on edge at just how easy it was. By now he had already passed the boundaries of where the reports ended and the lack of resistance was concerning. There was no wonder that he was jumping at even the slightest of noises.

The spate of good luck lasted him to the fence behind number 4 before it shattered. Spectacularly.

If it wasn’t for the fact that he _never_ felt the cold, Reborn might have missed the sudden chill that seemed to permeate the area. It was raining after all, and England was not particularly known for its warm Novembers. Instead, the first shivers that began to spread through his hands were novel enough that he stopped. His curiosity may have led him into more messes than he cared to count, but he still couldn’t bring himself to tame the habit. What was life without a little chaos?

Pinpointing the source of the cold wasn’t easy, there was only so much he could do with his Flames before they became a blaring beacon that would give away his position, but he wasn’t considered one of the strongest Elements the world over for nothing. After a few moments of cautious searching, never once daring to move further into the garden than his perch on the fence, his eyes landed on the unkempt shed that really should have been more obvious considering the well manicured flowerbeds surrounding it.

It wasn’t particularly large, nor was it all that interesting at first glance. With its peeling paintwork that had once been some shade of grey or green and its lone window fogged up with grime, it really wasn’t much to look at. In fact, there was something in the back of the Hitman’s mind that wanted to just dismiss it, it wasn’t worth his attention. Of course, that just made him want to explore it even more.

Three cautious steps forward, making effort not to break any of the stalks nor leave even the faintest hint of a foot print, landed him just to the left of the structure and that was when he heard it. Soft and broken, the quiet, choking sobs of a young child would have been easily recognisable even if he hadn’t been listening for it. More than that, the fractured gasps around the cries pulled at his instincts, speaking of infection, injury and God only knows what else.

An illusion?

He would have thought that it was one specifically targeted at Suns, intended to play on their instincts as nurturers, but the one who reported had been a Cloud, hardly the most friendly of individuals. Unless that meant that there was someone watching in order to tailor the illusion to a specific target?

Either way, Reborn’s Flames were all but screaming to him that he needed to investigate the noise, and who was he to tell them no? Mission momentarily tossed to the side, he slowly edged even closer to the door.

Thanks to either age or poor construction, the planks that made up the door had warped in a way that there were gaps wide enough for him to look through without having to open it. Allowing his gun to drop into his waiting palm, he took the chance and peered through.

It was empty.

Lack of lighting had never been a problem for Reborn’s senses so it was relatively easy to make out the random assortment of gardening gear that you would expect to find in such a place, but there was nothing else. Nothing to cause the chill that was most definitely radiating from this building. Nothing to cause the crying. Nothing interesting at all.

How curious.

It was a minimal risk to force open the door now that he was here, but even that didn’t produce any more explanations. In fact, the only thing it actually accomplished was to douse the hitman in layer of dust and grime that made his nose twitch. Even a quick probe of his Flames gave him nothing more than a half pleased, half furious shudder. So many questions, so few answers.

A slight flex of his fingers broke a panel from the door and sent the shards splintering to the ground. Still nothing… wait.

Movement.

If he hadn’t been staring straight at the pile of rags in the back corner, he would have missed the very slight shift. Even when he deliberately tested the specific area, his Flames didn’t react. If it wasn’t for the weird mix of emotions they were blaring at him it would have been easy to dismiss the movement as a stray animal taking refuge from the storm.

The shed wasn’t large enough for him to bother with stealth so he approached the problem head one, waiting a breath before shifting the top of the pile with the barrel of his gun.

Other than a faint stain on the floorboards, there was nothing there, nothing that could have caused the movement or the reaction of his Flames. Still, for now it appeared that he had reach a dead end and the idea of a Mist toying with him was beginning to chew at his pride.

It was time to return to what he was supposed to be doing.

Breaking in the back door of the house was laughably easy, the hardest part had actually been coaxing his grumpy companion out of the warm nest he had managed to create at the back of his neck. Picking the lock was something that Leon could do in his sleep and in the matter of seconds he was in.

Just like the rest of the street, the interior of the house was terrifyingly average. From the floral print wall paper to the pristine carpet of the dining room, it was the spitting image of a _Good House Keeping_ spotlight house. Every single thing was perfectly set into place and, to his heightened senses, the whole place reeked of lemon scented bleach. How civilian. How sickening. He really should just finish this job and get out of here soon, before the Stepford vibe started giving him hives.

Walking through the kitchen was an effort in impulse control. He didn’t know what it was, but something about all the gleaming surfaces made him want to just smash everything around him, but the job mentioned that it had to look like an accident. While home invasion gone wrong _could_ be classed as an accident, it would still bring far too much scrutiny to the house so that was out. Unfortunately.

Past that, it was into the long corridor leading up to the front door, most of the space being taken up by a crown moulded stair case. Again, everything was pristine and obsessively ordered. Perhaps he could just fill the master bedroom with bleach fumes? That had to be a valid risk of living in such a sterile environment surely? Well, he would wait until he was closer to decide that, the docket provided on the target was surprisingly thin considering how long this hit had been around.

Now that he was actually inside the building, Reborn was making sure to keep his Flames spread out, ready and waiting for even the slightest fluctuation of energy that would suggest that someone was waking, as such, when the hushed whimpers of a small child started up again, he knew exactly where they were coming from. Considering the w _here_ was almost directly next to his left ear, it would have been hard to miss it anyway, though why a child would be locked inside a cleaning cupboard… was the resident Mist just playing with him now?

The cupboard itself was small, even at his diminished height the door was only just tall enough to clear the top of his fedora. This, of course, meant that the tiny air vent in the door was exactly on his eye level but that just made it seem far too convenient. One of the biggest problems that the Arcobaleno faced after _The Incident_ was attempting to survive in adult sized world with an infant’s body, so to find something perfectly sized for him was… suspicious.

Still, if someone had gone to such lengths to lay a trap for him, wouldn’t it be rude to ignore it?

Releasing the latch on the door was a tense few seconds but they ultimately resulted in nothing and when the door creaked open… more of the same. This Mist was probably going to do him in with the heart strain alone and wouldn’t that be something for his rivals to fawn over? Still, he was not here for the cleaning supplies. Moving on.

There was a trick step on the stair, but with the slight weight of his child form it barely made a sound. A split second pause was all it took to assure himself that no one had been alerted, though, given the absolutely _grating_ noise he could hear coming from what he could only assume was the master bedroom, it would take a hell of a lot more than a slight creak to wake these civilians. There were no other signs of security systems either… just how had this man survived so long?

Surely no lone Mist would be able to protect them from every threat. Well… maybe Viper _could_ but there was no way Dursley would be able to afford that kind of protection.

Reaching the master bedroom was actually so easy that Reborn was beginning to get irritated for the whole job. He had come here expecting a challenge damnit, yet here was something that wouldn’t even faze a rookie. Of course, it had to be the second he placed his hand on the door frame that everything had to kick off, with a slight weight sending him crashing to the floor.

Instincts flaring, it took less than a second for the Sun to regain his bearings, gun coming up in a snap movement that even his eyes couldn’t follow, pressing straight into the forehead of… an illusion, it had to be.

The child that had tackled him was small, putting them on equal footing, yet the boy’s frame spoke more of hunger than the wiry muscle that made up the Hitman. Messy black hair, almost invisible in the dark hallway, obscured bright verdant eyes and Reborn could have sworn that he had seen better colouring on a corpse. Oh, and he was glowing.

It wasn’t immediately obvious, but a close look revealed that the figure in front of him wasn’t even completely solid. Despite the force he had felt when they had collided, Reborn was able to see the print of the wallpaper through the child’s ragged shirt. Any other analysis would have to wait however, the construction was staring at him.

“Where did you come from bambino? Who sent you?”

For a moment, the illusion just watched him seemingly startled to be addressed, but when the boy registered that the Hitman was actually looking at him (or, more accurately, examining him in the hopes of finding a trail to follow back to the caster) his little face lit up like a child on Christmas morning.

“You can see me?”

Something in Reborn’s blackened heart twisted at the sheer depth of fearful hope in the boy’s… illusion’s eyes, but he refused to acknowledge it. If this was how the Mist wanted to play things, then he would be sure to give nothing away.

“Of course I can see you, you _did_ attack me.”

Contrition. Fear soon followed, and the boy shot a look back at the still closed door before responding.

“You were going to wake them up!”

Curious, the child seemed more concerned about that then the fact that the Hitman was quite clearly a threat to the inhabitants of the house. Had he stumbled upon another professional instead of the protector he had first assumed? It would certainly make more sense, though something about that pinged in his gut. There was something strange going on here.

“Don’t insult me. They wouldn’t even know I was there.”

Not until it was too late at any rate. Still, the construct did not seem convinced.

“That’s what everyone says, but Aunt ‘Tunia always wakes up. Then bad things happen.”

Everyone? The others who came before him presumably, but what did that mean for the rest of the boy’s statement? The file hadn’t said anything about the wife having a nephew, in fact, the only child in the picture was supposed to be the couple’s own son, a common street thug who was currently away at an expensive boarding school where it was all but impossible for a student to fail out of class. The boy was certainly trying however. So why would the Mist choose to impersonate such an obviously fake character? And what were the ‘bad things’ the construct spoke of?

“I’m not everyone bambino. I am Reborn, the world’s greatest Hitman.”

To say that he didn’t enjoy the way those green eyes widened at his statement would be a lie. Ever since being turned into an infant, there were few people who would actually believe his claims so to see those large orbs fill with shock instead of amusement had a fuzzy sort of warmth curling in Reborn’s chest like a contented cat.

“You kill people?”

“Yes.”

“You’re here to kill Aunt ‘Tunia and Uncle Vernon?”

“Just the man, but yes.”

It was risky, admitting so much about his job to the boy. If his initial assumption was correct and the Mist was here as a bodyguard, then he had just set himself up for an attack, if not… well, hitmen could be incredibly territorial about their bounties, especially ones as high as this. Either option would end in more trouble for him, but there was just _something_ here that made Reborn want to reach out and show a little trust, he just hoped his instincts hadn’t failed him here.

Instead of the protective fury or even irritation that he had been expecting, the boy… illusion… boy’s eyes took on another hopeful tint as he leaned closer to the hitman’s face.

“He’d be gone?”

Curious, though given the signs of abuse that he was beginning to pick up from the boy (and he had to be a boy, if there had been even a wisp of Mist Flames, Reborn would have been able to _taste_ them from this close, though that did raise the question as to just _what_ exactly the boy was) it probably wasn’t all that surprising.

“That’s generally what ‘dead’ means bambino.”

Now there was the faint slither of amusement he had been expecting earlier, but given the context… no, it couldn’t be.

“Now if you’ll get off of me, I can finish my job and we can go our separate ways.”

There was a great deal of reluctance flooding those green depths now, but eventually the boy rolled to the side, finally allowing the Hitman to rise to his feet. Once up right again, he resumed his path to the door, only to be called back once again.

“Don’t wake Aunt ‘Tunia.”

Ah, yes. The ‘bad things’.

“What will happen if I do?”

A glance over his shoulder showed that the boy hadn’t followed him, but was instead rooted in place, staring down at his bare feet as he visibly trembled. Reborn was almost sure that the boy would have been crying if he was able. He certainly looked like he wanted to.

“She wakes up and screams. Then something _hurts_ here,” the boy fisted a hand directly over his heart, “an’ I do bad things. I don’ wanna hurt ‘nyone but it happens an I can’t stop an…”

The boy looked to be close to hyperventilating now, if that was even possible, and long dormant instincts of the Sun began to stir. Although moving closer to the one who had just, inadvertently, admitted to being the reason that all the other assassins had failed this task was probably not the _best_ plan, Reborn soon found himself next to the crying child.

“Okay bambino, I’ll make sure not to wake your Aunt.”

Those tear filled spheres should not have been able to make his dead heart ache like that but damn, this kid… what was with this kid?

“Promise?”

Oh for… he was the best in his field, he didn’t need to be pandering to small, glowing, _translucent_ children, but he found himself reaching for the outstretched finger all the same.

“I promise.”

The moment his bare skin came into contact with the surprisingly cold finger of the child, a jolt of pure _heat_ shot through him and the Hitman finally realised what had been upsetting his senses since he had crossed the property lines.

Sky Flames.

Sky Flames that were far stronger and purer than any he had ever felt as they clung to practically every surface in the house.

Sky Flames that _he had_ _just harmonised with._

Flames that came from the child in front of him who he was 60% sure was a God damned ghost.

Just what the hell was his life?


	2. Solar Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: What's this, an update O.o? Still, here's the next chapter for this fic, the next one for the main story should be up tomorrow and there is another one-shot (maybe two) in the works so keep an eye out. If you want a one shot from this verse too, let me know!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

Having to quickly pause and reassess the current situation was a skill that Reborn had perfected over the years, even if it was one he had used less and less frequently as his abilities grew. Rusty as they were, the Hitman grabbed hold of this knowledge once again and forced himself to take a deep breath. There were three things making up his current predicament:

  1. Here he was, on a legendary, impossible hit.
  2. He had found the reason for said impossible classification.
  3. He had just harmonised with this reason.



First things first, he had a hit to complete, his pride would not allow for anything less. Once he had managed that, _then_ he could deal with everything else. And to do that…

“I have to finish my business here, but once I do, we can leave. Will you let me past little one?”

He had tried to make his voice as gentle as possible, he had no desire to scare away this broken baby Sky, but he wasn’t sure how effectively he managed it. The boy’s face flickered for a moment, regaining the translucent hue that the Sun only now realised had faded during their conversation. For a minute the child seemed to be deep in thought before an intriguing light of determination sparked up in those emerald pools, a light that sent an unanticipated _thrill_ down the Sun’s spine, and his form solidified once again.

“Kay, just don’t wake Aunt ‘Tunia. Don’t wanna hurt you!”

Hmm, mentions of the ‘Aunt’ again and with it a poorly concealed flinch. Now that the boy was looking more solid, the Sun was able to make out more signs that were beginning to paint a very damning picture. The wife was not specifically included in the hit, but _accidents_ happened all the time. No one would ever have to know.

A small whimper in front of him drew his attention to how his Flames had been reacting to his anger, flaring and hissing in a clear threat to anyone around him. Now that just wouldn’t do. Forcing them back under control, he sent the Sky a soothing grin, or the closest he could manage in such a state.

“And I don’t want to harm you either Tesoro, so we’ll just have to be really quiet okay?”

He followed that with an exaggerated movement, placing a finger over his lips and, while it did make him feel a little ridiculous, it was all worth it when he was rewarded with a sweet little giggle. It was official, he was keeping this kid. He didn’t care what sort of black magic he would have to deal with to do so.

With his way no longer blocked by _his_ baby Sky, Reborn made his way back over to the bedroom door, though when he finally reached it, he paused. If this ‘Aunt’ was truly as light a sleeper as the kid was suggesting she was, then maybe this was not the best idea. The window would also be out as people often forgot to oil those hinges making them a risky shot at best. Yes his Sun Flames meant that he could check the status of the people in the room, so he would be warned if either of them was waking but several Suns had already attempted this mission in the past. It wouldn’t do to fail just because he got cocky. In this line of work, a cocky man was a dead one.

Luckily, the cursed Hitman had one advantage that none of the others had. He had noted in the blue prints he had been able to… borrow before taking this job that there was a ventilation duct that ran throughout the whole building. He thought too much of it at the time, automatically dismissing it as unimportant as it was far too small for an adult to climb through, but he wasn’t _in_ the body of an adult anymore, was he?

Decision made, he turned away from the door and made his way back towards the stairs, only to be stopped by a hand that clung to the back of his tailored jacket.

“Are you leaving?”

The despondent look in those eyes sent his instincts snarling but he forced himself to take another deep breath. There would be time enough to break the conditioning of the child later. Unfortunately, now was neither the time nor the place for such reassurance.

“Not at all bambino, I am simply taking another route.”

The child said that the bad things only happened after the woman screamed, meaning that she had seen all the other attempts coming, but if he was hidden in the vents, she wouldn’t even think to check them for dangers. Plus, he had no intention of enacting the kill while actually in the room with the two, if he went in merely to take stock of what he was dealing with, it wouldn’t give him away even if the woman was a latent Sky and able to sense the intentions of those around her as he _had_ no intentions of harming them. At least not in that specific moment. He was pragmatic like that.

Despite the clear sincerity of his statement, it seemed like the boy still didn’t believe him completely meaning that, while he was no longer being held in place, the Sun did have a little tag along clinging to his back as he made his way down the stairs and into the living room where the vent should have a removable cover.

He was not going to think about the obsessive cleanliness of the room itself. Needles to say, it would have a starring role in his nightmares for the next year or so, right behind that blasted day that…

The stream of Harmony tricking down his back was enough to make his muscles relax and distracted him from the bad thoughts. He couldn’t resist leaning back and just basking in them for a moment.

When I Prescelti Sette had first gathered, he had thought that he had found a home in Luce’s Sky, relishing in the little coil of Sky Flame that had wrapped around his own, soothing them in a way that he had never felt before. Lacking any form of comparison, he had mistakenly assumed that this was the way that a Guardian bond to a Sky was supposed to be and it was… pleasant in a way. That fragile link had _nothing_ on the roaring inferno that swirled around him now and he had no idea how he ever could have confused the two.

At least this explained why he hadn’t even come close of discord when it turned out that Luce had _betrayed_ them all. Come to think of, none of the others had either…

Once more he was doused in Sky Flames to the point he was swaying on his feet. Curse Skies and their instinctive empathy for everyone, especially their bonded Guardians. As nice as this feeling may be, there was no way that he would be able to complete this job while stoned out of his mind on a Sky’s Harmony factor. Taking yet another deep breath, he squared his shoulders and moved back to the vent cover, only to find that his familiar was no longer sleeping on his hat.

“Leon?”

A quiet squeak drew his attention back to the child or, more exactly, the tiny green chameleon that was pretty much a puddle of goo in the boy’s hands.

“I found him in my sleeve. He’s cute!”

That traitor. If Reborn wasn’t allowed to melt into his Sky’s Flames right now, then neither was his companion. Mio Dio, they were _professionals_ not that anyone would believe that looking at them now. Oddly, that didn’t quite stop his sudden wish for a camera, which Leon must have felt as the little lizard turned to blink lazily at him before sprawling out once again.

“As cute as he may be bambino, I’ll need him back if we are going to finish things here.”

There was a second where the boy looked as though he was going to protest, his eyes taking on a size and shape that _should have been illegal,_ but no sooner had the expression formed on his face than it was forced back to strained blankness, little hands coming up to place the lizard in Reborn’s waiting hand. That was… not normal. Children that age, even one that the Hitman had seen on the streets, held a selfish streak that came from being too young to truly understand how their actions impacted the world around them. To find one without was… worrying.

Something about his thoughts must have shown on the man’s face because no sooner had his worries started to surface than the child was stumbling back, hands half-heartedly raised in front of his face as if to ward off a blow. The fact that the kid had stepped back _through_ the overstuffed armchair was what truly brought the situation home and the shadows quickly fled the room at the outpouring of lurid, yellow Flames.

“Calm, Tessoro. I’m here to help you remember? I won’t hurt you. Not now. Not Ever!”

Leon squeaked in his hands, shifting forms too quickly for any of them to be recognisable. Reborn didn’t blame him, he wasn’t sure what he wanted most in that moment either.

Slowly, far too slowly for the Hitman’s liking, the boy unfurled from his defensive position, moving closer to the point that Reborn was able to reach up and ruffle his fluffy hair while Leon licked his cheek comfortingly. What was he going to do with a child frightened by his every expression? He would have to find a way to ease the boy back into normal social interactions somehow. Not now however, now he really needed to stop being distracted.

It was physically painful to turn his back on his newly-bonded, distressed Sky, but Reborn was a professional, he was _the_ professional. It really didn’t take all that long to remove the cover of the vent, and soon Leon was back on what was obviously becoming his favourite resting spot, flopped out in the Sky’s hands and chewing absently on the boy’s thumb.

“Little one, I need to go in here, but you can’t follow me okay? Stay here and keep Leon safe for me?”

The last part wasn’t necessary, the little chameleon was more than capable of looking out for himself, and would probably be more useful in his usual spot on the Hitman’s fedora, but after seeing the sheer panic in those flickering verdant eyes… well, he always had had a weakness for children, he blamed it on his Flames. After receiving a firm, is hesitant, nod, he finally returned his attention to what he was supposed to be doing. Squaring his shoulders, he made his way into the vents.

Unlike the fastidious cleanliness of the rest of the house, the ducts themselves were covered in dust and cobwebs to the point that the Sun felt like shuddering, his suit would have to be burned after this, but that would be a small price to play to get him out of this God forsaken house. Still, there was a part of him that was rather surprised at the state of the shaft, having half expected the woman to have poured bleach down the chute at some point, even if she hadn’t been able to fit in there herself. Perhaps there was some truth to the old adage ‘out of sight, out of mind’.

Despite having dismissed the vents when originally casing the house, Reborn was nothing short of a perfectionist and had studied the layout of the _whole_ house down to the smallest detail, so it was the work of mere minutes to make his way back up to the master bedroom, footsteps silent despite the echoing nature of the casing. In short order, he soon found himself perched at an opening, twisting himself uncomfortable to be able to catch sight of the two figures splayed out on the bed.

His first instinct had his eyes attempting to focus on the wife, the newly awoken Guardian instincts demanding retribution, but he forced that down, turning his attention to the one he was really here for. His mark was his priority right now.

Said mark was unimpressive to say the least, even the pictures he had been provided had not done justice to the sheer monstrosity of this man. About 180 cm tall and almost as much around, Vernon Dursley could have been the poster boy for how _not_ to look after yourself through adult life. Although only in his early fourties, the man had the complexion of a sunburnt pig and a large, shiny bald spot that made a remarkably tempting target.

Once again, Reborn found himself questioning just how this man had managed to survive as long as he had. With his looks alone, it was honestly surprising that the someone hadn’t just taken a pot shot in the streets on principal alone, Lord new that the Sun was tempted to himself. That wasn’t even taking into account the horrid case of sleep apnoea that he was able to diagnose within the first three minutes. Seriously, _how_ was this man alive right now?

Attempting to draw his attention away from the paradox that was his target, Reborn finally gave in to his need to examine the cause of his Sky’s suffering, forcing his Flames down as he turned, only to find himself baffled once again.

Where the husband had clearly eaten more than was recommended for the life time of any human being, the wife looked as though she hadn’t seen even a shadow of a meal for far too long. Even from his perch a meter above the bed he was able to clearly make out her sharp cheekbones and both the radius and the ulna in her wrist. He might have even felt a little sorry for the woman, assuming some form of spousal abuse, if it wasn’t for the sneer that was present even in sleep. Instead, he was finding it rather hard not to see her as an emaciated cow on its way to the slaughter house.

Speaking of which…

He hadn’t been able to sense any Flames during the course of his examination, latent or otherwise, but he still made sure to back out of the room before he started to further plot out how to finish this job. There was no need to tempt fate if the woman had already ruined the attempts of all of his predecessors.

The sheet of paper that listed the details of this hit was burning a hole in his pocket, reminding him of the stipulations that had to be met. As much as he might wish to tear these people limb from limb, his employer had demanded that this look like an accident, the two of them being outwardly respectable enough that even the barest hint of foul play would spark an investigation that the Famiglia wished to avoid. His fantasies of slowly peeling the skin from the horse-woman’s face as he recorded a lullaby from her screams were pushed aside and he began to truly think about what he needed to do.

The simplest course of action was what he went with in the end. He had wasted too much time here already, time that could be better spent reassuring his newfound Sky, so he was not going to spend any longer than needed in planning out some elaborate ploy to make the pair suffer.

Silent as the reaper himself, Reborn made his way back into the room, cautiously extending a trail of Flame to the husband once he had the two back in his sights. As simple as it was in theory, the execution of this plan would require all the considerable skill he had amassed over the years.

The trick to this assassination would be purely in his intent. As that was surely how all the others had been noticed, he couldn’t afford to allow even the slightest strain of malicious intent to stain the room, which meant that every action he took had to be intended to _heal_ instead of _harm._

With the small tendril that he had attached to the husband, it was little effort at all to activate certain receptors in his brain that would make him a little more… amorous than usual. Stimulating certain hormones and suppressing other signals, just enough for the man, in a half awake state, to role on top of his wife. Once there, the tendril was then diverted to the man’s heart that was beginning to accelerate. Now, it would be such a shame for a man as unfit as Vernon Dursley to get his heart rate up so high, so it was with the purest intentions in the world that Reborn lead the muscles around the organ to loosen, weakening them enough that they would ease up to avoid the chances of a heart attack. With his ability as a healer, it was easy.

It was even easier to keep going, to keep relaxing those muscles until they just… stopped. Oops.

Watching the man come crashing down onto his twig of a wife was amusing, especially as the Hitman had enhanced his senses enough that he had _heard_ the snapping of the woman’s ribs at the impact. From his place in the vent, he was also in the perfect position to watch as she jerked awake, eyes blowing wide in panic as she finally registered her situation and began to struggle. Of course, she was far too weak to move Vernon by herself and her struggles only succeeded in wasting what little air was left in her lungs.

From his place as spectator, Reborn enjoyed it all, a satisfied grin crawling across his cherub face as the light began to fade from the cow’s eyes. He wasn’t going to leave it at that hover.

Once the woman’s struggles finally began to die out, but before the light had fully faded from her eyes, the Hitman forced the cover off of the vent and dropped down onto the bed, taking pleasure in the way that his small weight added to the pressure bearing down on the woman who had most likely killed his Sky, making her broken wheezing even worse.

The second she spotted him, “‘Tunia’s” face went whiter that the sheets below her and the Italian grinned. It was not a pleasant thing.

“Good morning Mrs Dursley.”

She jerked weakly at the mention of her name as Reborn, ever the gentleman, doffed his hat and sent her a twisted approximation of his usual charming smile.

“I am the Hitman Reborn, here on behalf of your late husband’s employers. You see, he managed to gain the ire of someone higher up the Famiglia and as such, his life was forfeit.

Interesting, from the look in the woman’s eyes, she had no idea of just what sort of business Vernon was dealing with. No matter, she would know now.

Leaning closer to her face, he allowed the full weight of his infant body to press down on her as he met her eyes.

“Your life was not forfeit in the terms of the contract however, I have found that you have mishandled something very dear to me. That you have _taken_ something that is _mine,_ and for that, you must pay. Now join your husband in hell, I have wasted enough time on you as it is.”

That said, he jumped off of the stack of corpses he was leaving behind, making his way back to the door of the room. It didn’t matter that the woman didn’t know anything about the Mafia. Didn’t matter that she had no way of knowing that her nephew was a Sky. Nor that the boy was _Reborn’s_ Sky in particular. All that mattered was that the boy was _his_ and he was not merciful to those who would harm anyone he protected in the light of his Sun.

With one hand pressed to the cool wood of the door, he waited until he heard the woman’s last breath rattle in her chest and out of her lips before he made his exit. His job was done, now it was time to collect his Sky and for the two of them to go _home._

After that, well, Reborn had never heard of a real life necromancer before, but if even one existed on this planet, then he _would_ find them. He was the _world’s greatest_ after all.


	3. Reaching Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm back! Sorry for the long break, but Christmas is a really stressful time for me as we have a lot of guests over and I get really stressed having other people in my space. Still, it's over and I can get back to writing! 
> 
> The next chapter of Sending Out Flares will be out either tonight or tomorrow, and the Christmas one-shot will be up before long, so keep an eye out for it.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the chapter!
> 
> Edit: big thanks to Nessamir on FF.net for fixing my German. Sorry again for the google grammar.

Wrapped up in the warmth of blankets and a comforting hold, Reborn actively had to bite into his cheeks to keep himself from falling to the siren call of sleep. Admittedly, he was more than a little Flame drunk, his body going haywire in response to the newly formed bond, but he simply didn’t have _time_ for this.

Four days. He had been in Britain for four days of the week he had set aside for this hit. That gave him approximately seventy hours before he had to be on a plane back to Firenze where he was to meet with Viper. Normally he would have simply called the other to rearrange the time, but now… he would prefer not to draw any more attention than necessary until he was sure about his next course of action, which meant planning…

The slightest shift of a feather light weight behind him, coupled by the faint tightening of the arms around his shrunken form disturbed his thoughts once again, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. Leaving the bed would mean leaving his Sky and the comforting warmth that the boy practically bled into the air around him despite the chill of his translucent figure. Needless to say, Reborn had no intentions of moving for a long while yet. Still, this did mean that his necessary plotting time was far more difficult than normal.

In hindsight leaving the house had been pathetically easy, as had the rest of the hit if he was being honest, but at the time it had felt like his every nerve end was screaming at him, his instincts on such high alert that even the dripping of the rain through tree leaves was akin to the footsteps of an assassin out for the life of _his_ baby Sky, ready to tear the boy away from Reborn when he had only just found him. That was completely unacceptable!

And completely irrational, something he was putting down to newly awakened Guardian instincts being paranoid, as he was all but convinced that the boy was a ghost it would take a particularly dedicated hitman to achieve that goal. But that in itself led to other problems.

Reborn was not a humble man, so it was easy for him to admit that he was a genius. He had travelled the length and breadth of Europe and there was nary a Mafia library that he hadn’t gained access to at one point or another, whether its owners knew about it or not. He was also a man that gloried in knowledge, the power of which had allowed him to claw his way up to the top of the food chain from the gutters he had been born into. Since then, he had always done his best to make sure that he was the smartest person in any room, a behavioural tic that had become an obsession after the one time he had gone into a situation blind had left him trapped in the body of an infant.

Reborn was a man who _knew_ things. Yet… he knew nothing about this.

Not once in any of the hundreds of books he had consumed, had he ever read anything about _ghost Skies_. It wasn’t even something that appeared in fiction as the idea of killing a Sky, even in literature, was just something that _wasn’t done._ When a Sky died, it was for a purpose, for a reason bigger than them, like ideals, Family or revenge, _not_ as a plot device in some third rate horror story where the smooth talking protagonist would harmonize and then be forced to scour the earth in order to find a way to bring them back-

His life was now one of those cheesy soap operas Colonnello swore he didn’t watch.

Shifting a little to a more comfortable position, he put the thought out of his mind. He had never been one to wallow and those thoughts were _not helping._

Removing his Sky from the house had occurred with few issues, discounting the minor heart attack he had experienced when, as the boy crossed over the property line, the Sun had felt his presence disappear completely from all of his senses. Thankfully, the child had flickered back into being a split second later, sparing the street of civilians from the wrath of a raging Sun. After that, the two of them had simply slipped through the guards on the late night trains until they had reached the hotel he had booked for his stay.

Throughout the journey, the bond, as well as the child’s skittish reactions to pretty much every new person to cross their path, had ensured that the Hitman was completely exhausted by the time they finally locked themselves away in the room and surprisingly, so was the child. Almost the second that the door had clicked closed behind them, the kid had slumped against the wall and all but faded from sight. Obviously too exhausted to even put up a fight, the Sky hadn’t even fought as Reborn picked him up and carried him over to the bed where he could sleep, recharge, or whatever it was that ghosts did to regain their energy.

It had all been so easy when compared to the shy nature of the child that the Sun hadn’t been expecting the iron bands that locked around his waist the second he attempted to pull away, nor had he been guarded against the sudden influx of Harmony that had him all but melting into the covers. Hence his current situation.

But now that his job was over and the child was safely tucked away with him… what was his next move?

There were many different paths he could take now that he was thinking about his options, none too appealing, but present all the same. In fact, there were so _many_ options that it was almost overwhelming. Yes, he was politically savvy, he _knew_ how to negotiate the rapids of the underworld better than pretty much anyone else, it was how he had managed to remain unattached all these years, but he was also in a situation where he now had a weakness that would be easy enough for anyone to find. That had never been a problem before.

In the end, his choices boiled down to three questions:

  1. Who would have the information he needed to carry on from here?
  2. Who could he trust not to take advantage of any information he let slip?
  3. Who did he even want to learn of his Sky?



The first one was easy enough to contemplate as he could already eliminate pretty much all of the smaller and mid sized famiglias. He already knew the contents of their libraries so they would be of no use for him. Unfortunately, that left the older, better established ones and as that boiled down to either the Vongola or the Giglio Nero, he was going to leave them as a last resort, the former because Donna Daniela was still sore for his rejection of her son, and the latter because of obvious reasons.

Another possible source would be Viper. The miser was expensive, but generally had a knack for ferreting out information no one had ever dreamed of before. He had the money to ask them, especially after this last job, but the question here was _did he want to_? It was no secret that the Arcobaleno had been drawn to the meeting, at least in part, by the promise of a Guardian bond, meaning that the Mist was undoubtedly looking, even if they would never admit that.

Reborn had found a Sky that had already proven to be able to hold one of the world’s strongest Flames. It was not beyond reason to assume that he would be able to hold the others…

Viper was an option certainly, but it was one he would prefer not to pursue for now. The same went for Verde, with the added twist of not trusting the scientist as far as he could throw him…

Unfortunately, that didn’t really give him many avenues to research, though there was one, drastic, approach that he couldn’t quite bring himself to discount entirely: The Vindice.

As _the_ oldest organisation of the Mafia, and the one that made it their business to know anything and everything that was going on in the underworld, they were the people most like to have an answer for him. It was also a lesser known fact that it was possible to petition an audience from their leader if you could prove that your motivation was important enough. Most people had forgotten that over the years as the police force of the Mafia became more and more of the bogeyman figure there only to punish instead of maintain order.

He could go to them, and given their sworn neutrality in all matters, they wouldn’t use his Sky against him.

Unfortunately, they were also known to be rather hostile to the Arcobaleno, or at least that was what the records they had found suggested.

The second question was also depressingly easy to answer. Reborn was well known, and just as well feared. He had allies, but none that he would truly trust enough to give them even the slightest bit of power over him. There was no one that he would even dream about trusting his Sky to outside of maybe one or two of the other Arcobaleno, but even that was a stretch and created its own problems. A lone Sky was a pitiful thing, but Reborn was a selfish man…

The third one was even easier: no one. He didn’t want anyone to know of this shy, skittish child who broadcasted all the signs of textbook abuse even as he latched on to anyone who showed him even the barest hint of kindness. Unfortunately, that just wasn’t practical.

So his options were:

Viper

Vindice

Vongola

Or Giglio Nero.

None of those were appealing at all.

A faint snuffling noise above his ear breaks him from the spiral of his thoughts and the Sun forces himself to just _breathe._ Thinking in circles was not going to get him anywhere and was only going to make him more stressed. It wasn’t like him to be so indecisive but then, he had never had the urge to protect anything so dearly before. Had never had anything so dear _to_ protect.

In the end, the safest options were probably the first two. The Vindice had no reason to want any control over him and if you paid Viper enough not a word would pass their lips. Add in a Guardian bond and there would be nothing to fear from that quarter. With that in mind, Reborn’s selfishness really wasn’t a consideration was it?

Finally giving into the lull of Harmony, he allowed his eyes to close as he finally made his choice. He would have to speak to Viper eventually, and the Mist was intuitive enough that they would be able to notice that he was hiding something, even if they didn’t know _what_ exactly it was. Giving the information broker even a flash of a mystery without an answer would just be asking for trouble. Viper would find out eventually, it would probably be less irritating to just give them the information at the beginning then make use of the Mist’s information network, than to attempt to field their questions for the next few years.

Content with the knowledge that he had made his decision, the Sun was just about to fall asleep when an icy chill shot through his stomach sending him jerking up, hand flying for the gun he had hidden under the pillow, eyes flashing around the room in search of a threat.

There was nothing there.

The room was small, a corner room that managed to keep the bed out of sight of the windows while still providing enough escape routes to satisfy his paranoia. It was also completely empty of anything except from his own gear.

But the cold feeling still didn’t fade.

Another deep breath designed to settle his nerves only served to heighten the sense of discomfort and had him glancing down only to freeze in shock. In all his thinking, he had almost managed to forget the reality of his Sky being a God damned _ghost._ It was kind of hard to ignore that now that he could see the child’s hand sticking out of his abdomen.

Nothing in his chaotic life had prepared him for this.

But then… wasn’t the favourite rumour about the Vindice and their long life, the idea that they were zombies? He had dismissed it as idle gossip before but… maybe it would be worth giving them a call anyway… just in case.

He would see what Viper had to say first. It wasn’t a guarantee of answers, but introducing the two of them was bound to be interesting at the very least.

**********

When they had first received the call from Reborn, they hadn’t been surprised. In all their years of working with this particular set, it was actually rather common for the Hitman to set a conservative time estimate for his jobs, the man’s paranoia mixing with his pride to the point that he finished his jobs at least a day early on average. So no, the Sun calling to move their meeting forward a couple of days had been expected. The anticipatory lilt to his words on the other hand, had not.

They had set the meeting place in a secluded bar in the outskirts of Florenz so it was here they waited, tucked into a Mist shrouded booth that would prevent anyone from paying attention to what went on inside. It was a habit to place such a veil around them, but now that they had been cursed, it was a trick that was even more important as the endless slew of ‘adults’ asking them where their ‘Mama and Papa’ were and if they needed help finding them, began to push them more and more towards homicide with ever repeat. It was a little worrying how close that impulse was to the surface nowadays.

In their current position, they also had the perfect view of door, so they noticed the second that a tiny form topped with a pristine fedora slipped inside and began to dart between the legs of the other patrons as they made a beeline to the table. Reborn had arrived.

“Ciaossu, Viper.”

Even after a decade, it was still disconcerting to hear the childish lisp where they were expecting the smooth baritone they had come to associate with the Hitman. Still, the echoing dual tone in their memory was enough to jerk them away from their thoughts and the ever present blood lust was suppressed for now.

“Reborn. Do you have the proof for our client?”

It was irritating to have to work with another of their set, especially with the memories that such an association invoked, but Viper prided themself on being the _best_ and to do that, they had to work with the best. Meaning, Reborn.

Instead of answering, the Hitman reached into the inner pocket of his jacket before withdrawing a newspaper clipping that he dropped onto the surface of the table, perfectly aware of the Mist’s distaste of taking things directly out of other people’s hands. Even while accommodating for their paranoia the man managed to hold an air of smug satisfaction, not dissimilar to that of the Cat who ate the canary. It was obnoxious, but probably well deserved. Many had failed this job before, Viper would let him have this little bit of pride.

The clipping obviously came from a local newspaper, one more concerned with gossip than any in-depth reporting which was good, their client had specified that this was to be a low key case. When they read the article however, they had to work to keep the neutral expression on their face.

The accident was believable, if bizarre, and all but glowed with the Sun’s twisted sense of humour. Probably a little bit of vindictive bitterness as well, since the man had been known to be quite the Casanova before being bound in the form of a child. Still…

“You killed the wife as well? She wasn’t included in the contract.”

And she hadn’t. From what Viper had discovered during their research, the nosy cow of a woman hadn’t even been aware of the true nature behind her husband’s job, the very definition of a civilian, even if she wasn’t a particularly pleasant one. Reborn was not one for needlessly including innocents in his work, but given the fact that Viper could probably kill someone on the man’s smile, there was probably some story there.

“That one was on the house. Trust me, it was a pleasure.”

Strange, they had never classified the Hitman as a psychopath, a competent killer for sure, but only when need demanded it. For all his work revolved around the ending of lives, he had never been so callous with them. Meaning…

“She annoyed you. Did she see you coming?”

That was probably not the most tactful of comments, but it was the one most likely to get them a reaction which, given the sudden spike of killing intent from the other side of the table, had definitely been successful.

“I’d thank you not to question my competence Viper. I may tolerate you, but I don’t take insults likely.”

That was fair, they supposed. It wasn’t as though they would react any differently on the rare occasions that someone had questioned the accuracy of their information. The pride of a professional was not an insignificant thing, and was not a territory to make light of.

“Entschuldigung.”

They were well versed in the politics of killers. Sometimes it was easier to just apologise than to hold your ground. Thankfully, the Italian accepted it at face value, easily shrugging off his animosity and easing back into the smug aura of ‘I know something you don’t know’ he had been wearing for a while now.

“Non dirlo. As for the _woman_ ” he spat the word, a direct contrast to his normal ‘gentleman’ attitude to those of the farer sex, “crossed a line that I was not willing to ignore. As such, I punished her for the transgression. She didn’t see me until I wanted her to.”

So it was something personal then. Though, as far as they knew, Reborn didn’t have any personal attachments in Britain and as the Dursleys had not left the country in over a year, there was nothing they could think of that would invoke such fresh, raw fury. Curious.

“Mou… what did she do?”

Oh, they knew that unholy light of glee that sparked up in coal black eyes. They knew it very well, and never had it meant anything good for those around the Sun. Due to past experience, the Mist slipped a minor illusion across their features. They were almost certain that they could control their reactions, but just in case-

“She had been abusing _my Sky_.”

In case Reborn said something like _that._

“ _What?”_

Despite their preparation, they hadn’t quite managed to keep the shock and sheer disbelief out of their voice, but they believed that they could be forgiven in these circumstances. They had met the _World’s Strongest Sky_ and even _she_ had been unable to pull them in. But, if Reborn was being truthful…

The broadening of the Sun’s smile was all the warning that the Mist received before a tiny voice spoke up from behind their left shoulder, sending them whirling round in search of the presence that they could have _sworn_ did not exist until a second ago.

“Hello.”

Behind them was a small child, just a little shorter than their cursed form. Frail and meek, it was little surprise that they had been unable to notice him up until now, but when they tentatively reached out with a tiny wisp of their Flame, not even daring to hope, the sudden influx of warmth was overwhelming.

Rocking back into the cracked leather of the seat, it was all they could do to turn and fix their gaze on the Chaos magnet across the table, eyes blown wide at the sudden dose of Harmony. As it was, they weren’t even aware that they were speaking before they heard a quiet, breathless “Oh.” Break the silence around them.

Thankfully, the Sun chose not to use this particular moment of weakness against them, and only allowed his smile to soften in understanding.

“Yeah, oh.”


	4. Equilibrium

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A little late once again, but here it is. Sorry for anyone who read Sending Out Flares, but there is a little bit of a repeat explanation as to how the Mafia views magic for those who haven't.
> 
> I'm going to try and get the next chapter for the main story up tomorrow night, and I am still working on the Christmas oneshot that is giving me so much trouble. Still, keep an eye out for those.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Edit: big thanks to Nessamir on for fixing my German. Sorry again for the google grammar.

Considering that the second he had Harmonized with the baby Sky had felt like the most important one in his life, watching it from the outside was not all that impressive. Yes, he had had the satisfaction of watching the normally expressionless Mist lose their cool, first when he had mentioned the existence of said Sky and then when the child had made his appearance, but both of those reactions were all but smothered by the Mist illusion that he could feel even if he couldn’t see past it.

That illusion shattered the second that amber Flames slotted so intimately against indigo ones, sending a shiver of contentment through the bond.

On the outside, Reborn kept the look of smug satisfaction firmly in place as he observed Viper’s normally pale complexion bleach into a grey-ish tone. On the inside, he was a roiling mess of seething Flame. He had known that there was a high chance that the child would be able to accept the information broker just as he had accepted him, and he had brought them together anyway. That didn’t mean he had to like it however.

There was a voice in the back of his head, one that he had thought silenced long ago, hissing at the intrusion into his Harmony, whispering snide comments and ‘what ifs’ that made the Hitman’s hands clench where they were hidden by the table. Just because his Sky had gained another Guardian did not mean that he would no longer want Reborn. That was _not_ how Harmonies worked.

Now if only he could convince his anxiety of that.

Across the table, he could see the Sky and Mist staring transfixed at each other, more accurately, the Mist gazing at the Sky with cautious wonder. For the boy’s part, it was more like confusion mixed with half dead hope. It was such a _sweet_ scene.

Watching the two of them jerk away from each other as the sharp rap of his knuckles on the table split the silence, sent a dark curl of pleasure through his chest. Not that he would let them see that.

“As _adorable_ as this is, I’m letting you in on this for a reason, and it isn’t from the kindness of my heart. We need your… help with something.”

Those words, worse, the _sincerity_ in them, was enough to make him gag, but he forced it down, choosing instead to stare the other Element down. There would be no uncertainty in the hierarchy of this Harmony. After a moment of holding his gaze from behind their hood, the Mist finally acknowledged him with the faintest dip of their head. It wasn’t much, but he would accept it.

“ **Come here Bambino**.”

Despite how much the Italian attempted to soften his voice, the child still flinched before jumping to follow his orders. It grated at him, this ingrained need to please the adults around him, but he had only been working with the boy for a day. Give him time and the Sky would be _magnificent_ but for now, he would have to settle with simply happy.

As soon as the child climbed into the booth beside the Sun, Reborn reached out a hand to ruffle the messy black locks on his head. Obviously he hadn’t managed to slow his movements quite enough and the child startled, squeaking slightly before losing his concentration and flickering to a more translucent appearance for a fraction of a second before solidifying once again. Still, it was enough and across the table, he heard Viper’s startled gasp.

“What?”

This time, his smile was darkened by despair more than bitterness, but he doubted his companions would be able to notice the difference. Yet, given what had just happened, he would have to accept that he would inevitably be getting closer to the Viper in the coming years.

“You see the problem then? As much as I hate to admit it, I have come to the conclusion that I, and now you, have Harmonised with a _ghost_ Sky. I was hoping that you would have some explanation for this because I certainly don’t.”

The despondent humour in that statement must not have been lost on the Mist as they spent a good moment staring at him, presumably awaiting the punch line of a very poor joke, before they gave up, as was signified by the slightest dip in the line of their shoulders.

“You never could do anything the easy way.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Despite the fact that the other’s eyes were covered, Reborn liked to imagine that they were flashing a stormy indigo out of sheer frustration. Pretending that he couldn’t feel their glare burning holes into his soul, he turned his attention to the child who was looking between them with confusion. Not all that surprising seeing as Viper had slipped back into German in their shock and Reborn, still absently attempting to place their origins through the faintest echoes of an accent, had neglected to change it back to English.

“Little one, this is Viper. They’re going to help me look after you, okay?”

At that, the boy’s face flashed through a myriad of emotions too quickly for him to name before finally settling on a level of determination that sent a thrill down his spine. If there was one thing Reborn could respect, it was a man with resolve. Now, if only that resolve was focused on him and not the Mist across the table. Even though the boy didn’t voice his thoughts, it was easy enough to read his desires through his wide eyes and the way he had started to fidget on the bench. Yet more traits he would have to work on in the future. For now…

“Go on then.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth, than the boy was bouncing out of his seat and stumbling around the table until he was able to pitch himself forward into the space of the startled Mist.

Well, if he was going to be stuck in this situation for the foreseeable future, he would just have to do his level best to enjoy it.

**********

When they had seen the child flicker for the barest of moments when Reborn had touched them, an icy thrill of panic had shot through their heart as they thought for one second that this whole situation had been a trap. Images of the boy being nothing more than a Mist construct flashed through their mind before they were quickly dismissed. It would have been impossible to Harmonise with a construct, and they would have been able to feel any other Flames. It was practically impossible to fake Sky Flames anyway.

If the child wasn’t an illusion however, it then raised the question of what he _was_. Now was not the time to theorize on their own however, and given the look Reborn was giving them, he had an answer, so they were better off just asking.

“What?

That was finally enough to kill the smug look on the Sun’s face, but Viper wasn’t sure that they liked the bitter humour that replaced it. They weren’t going to like the answer here, but that was only to be expected. This was Reborn after all.

They were right.

A _ghost._ Reborn believed that the two of them had managed to Harmonize with a ghost child. Where did he even find such a thing? More than that, why weren’t they more surprised about this?

Still, if the boy really wasn’t a construct, and was present enough that there was no way he could have been a hologram, then what other options were there?

They had heard tales of this sort of thing, certainly. In fact, a lot of the reports they had received from their network were centred around Britain which is where Reborn had been sent on the last hit. They had never really believed those assets before, writing them off as simple ghost stories, but with the evidence in front of them… It did make a certain kind of sense, and explained why he had not sensed the boy until their Harmonized. This was going to make their lives exponentially more difficult.

“You never could do things the easy way.”

And he never could. Viper vividly remembered one of the jobs in the run up to that… _day._ A job that was supposed to be a _simple_ hit that s _hould_ have been child’s play to the _world’s greatest Hitman._ But no, Reborn had decided to go and seduce the daughter of the Don they were supposed to be assassinating leading to a man hunt that had spanned the entirety of Europe. Admittedly, the incident had probably been one of the key events that had cemented their group as the world’s strongest Flame users, but it was still something that never should have happened.

The worst part of all of this was that the Sun wasn’t even repentant for it. That might be an issue in the future when it came to protecting their baby Sky, Viper wasn’t too sure that they would be able to reign in some of his more eccentric impulses. It might be necessary to bring a calming influence, such as Fon, into the situation. He couldn’t sense any other Elements in the Sky, so it should be easy enough to get the martial artist on side. The problem would be convincing the Hitman of that fact.

The sudden yank of their robe had them glancing down into the glowing Emerald eyes of the child who was making ‘up’ gestures quite insistently at them. Not something they ever would have given into normally, but with the new bond wreaking havoc with their instincts, they found themselves reaching down without a thought. The idea of having their Sky in their lap where they would be able to completely conceal him in their Mist, though it would be a bit of a tight fit, was too attractive to pass up.

The child was not content with that however, soon twisting round (almost pitching themselves off of Viper’s shrunken form in the process) until he was leaning forward until their foreheads touched directly.

Their first reaction was to lash out at the one invading their personal space, but they held it back. There was no way to predict how Reborn would react as his bond couldn’t be much older than their own, acting in any way that could be even remotely interpreted as a threat, even if they had been able to do so, would have been tantamount to suicide. Considering the fact that they didn’t normally restrain themselves this much, they weren’t entirely sure what to do next. Devoid of any other option, they resigned themselves to wrapping their tiny arms around the child before them to make sure that he didn’t fall.

All they could see was green.

Despite the contact between the two of them, it seemed like the boy was managing to maintain a solid form quite well. The point where they touched was warm. The sort of warmth that had them relaxing back into the seats almost without realising it. It felt like there was a gentle fire blooming to life in their stomach that they hadn’t felt since they had truly been this size and their Mama had held them in their lap.

They thought that they had been prepared for a Sky when they had gone to the meeting of seven. They had been wrong.

For a long time, they simply sat there, basking in the pure Flames that played in and around their own. From the flickering Sun they could feel at the edges of their perception, they were not the only one. Eventually however, they were brought out of the haze when the warm weight leaning against them, suddenly increased.

From the soft puffs of air across their cheeks, their Sky had fallen asleep. Without the resistance of the child, it was easy enough to manoeuvre the slightly smaller body off to the side until he was simply leaning against them and they were able to stare at a blearily blinking Reborn across the table.

“Why come to me?”

Not that they weren’t grateful, though they would never admit that, even under pain of death, but Reborn was well known for solving his problems by himself, never one asking for help from anyone. From what they had been able to find on the man after the first meeting, he was also one of the most well read in the Mafia society when it came to Mafia law. On Viper’s part, their connections to the more obscure sides of the underworld were not exactly well known, so there was no reason for the Hitman to assume that they knew anything that he hadn’t already found himself. None of this made any sense.

Asking the question while the Sun was still recovering from a Flame drunk state was an underhanded tactic, but with the way his face was screwing up in distaste, it was effective. After a moment of strained silence, Reborn finally answered, though his tone suggested that he would rather have swallowed a mouthful of cyanide.

“You have a habit of finding things that I can’t, and… the boy needed other Guardians.”

Hmm, looked like the man was far more influenced by the Sky attraction than they had anticipated, there was no way he would have admitted so much otherwise. Hearing the Hitman admit that he needed help with something was a memory that they were going to hold on to for the years to come. They felt like they were going to need it if they were going to be forced to exist in the same Sky.

Unfortunately, the fact remained that they _didn’t_ have the answers to this problem. Other than a few half formed whispers and obviously exaggerated stories, they had _nothing._

That was unacceptable.

“I have… heard of something… similar.”

And they had, but all of their research suggested that there was no way this sort of situation could happen.

Hidden amongst the ‘normal’ societies of the world, was a smaller sect of people who could use a different form of soul energy that, while similar to Flames, existed in a completely different manner. In fact, the two forces were diametrically opposed to the point that they cancelled each other out meaning that there was no way for this energy and Flames to exist within the same soul.

Every story they had ever heard of these ‘ghosts’ was from that society.

There were also some details that didn’t really align with what they were seeing right now, like the way that these ‘ghosts’ were supposed to be ice cold, incorporeal and colourless. They hadn’t ever heard of one that had been able to physically interact with the world around them either. None of these were true for their Sky. Now that the idea was in their mind however…

With one of their milder Mist probes, Viper slowly began to poke around the baby Sky leaning against them. It drew a strange look from the Hitman, but they ignored it as they nudged deeper into the boy’s core until they found it. It wasn’t so much a tangible feeling, more like the taste of ozone on the back of their tongue and the zing of lightning racing around their veins.

At least that explained one thing.

“I think I know how the child died if nothing else.”

They had been expecting a reaction, but the Hitman’s face turning into a promise of murder mixed with dark satisfaction was not it. Rather, they had been thinking more along the lines of being slammed into the seating as the Sun demanded answers.

“I don’t need guesses. I already took care of the problem.”

Took care of…? Ah, yes, the wife. There was a story there. Still, they could not allow this misconception to continue. If there was one thing that they hated, it was incorrect information.

“Whatever she did was irrelevant in terms of how he died. Considering the conflict in his soul even now, it is safe to assume that it would have happened even if he had been provided with the best care possible.”

And there was the reaction that they had been expecting. It was almost alarming how desensitized they were becoming to having a gun aimed in their direction, something that would probably come back to bite them in the future, but they would ignore it for now. Feeling their shoulder going numb from the weight leaning against it, they shifted a little before answering.

The fidgeting was in no way related to the gun, and if the change in position meant that the bullet would now simply graze their ear rather than enter their skull, it was a mere coincidence.

“Flames are not the only source of power in this world. There is another that is very like Lightning Flames, only slightly different. Never before have I seen a case with this energy and Flames existing within the same soul, but in him, I can find traces of both. As they are supposed to be polar opposites of each other, this is probably what killed him.”

The words, while maintaining their flat tone, came out faster than they had intended, but it appeared to be lost on the Sun who merely looked contemplative, if a little intrigued. The gun was not removed however, so they decided to keep talking.

“I have only ever heard of ‘ghost like entities’ in the societies surrounding these people so it makes sense that this would be the reason for his state. How he managed to retain his Flames after death however, I don’t know. All evidence would suggest that the two energies should have destroyed each other, killing him in the process. If I had to guess…”

Their voice cut off as the numb feeling in their shoulder suddenly turned into a piercing chill. It was only the knowledge that their Sky was leaning against them, and the fact that Reborn hadn’t even twitched, that they managed not to dive away from the unpleasant sensation. Preparing their Flames so that they shimmered beneath their skin, they slowly glanced down only to freeze at the image of their Sky’s head half way _inside_ of their shoulder.

“Ah yes, he does that.”

The amusement in the Himan’s voice was not lost on them, but again, the presence of their Sky kept them in place. If they lunged across the table now, they would disrupt the sleeping child (and they had no idea how the physics behind the boy’s intangibility worked so for now they were not going to risk it) so for now, they were going to stay where they were.

That didn’t mean they couldn’t send an echo of the feeling into the mind of the man across from them however. Seeing that smug look die was something they were never going to grow tired of.

“If you know all this, then I assume you have an idea of where to go from here.”

Well, not exactly. But it wasn’t as though they were ever going to admit that, especially not to Reborn of all people. Still, there was something they _could_ do, and it would provide them with the perfect opportunity for following up on something that had been bothering them throughout this exchange.

“I have people I can contact for more information. Until then tell me, what exactly did Dursley’s wife do to meinen kleinen Hasen?”

The bloodlust they had managed to force away at the arrival of their associate came back with a vengeance, a feeling that was clearly echoed by the manic grin and lurid yellow eyes being flashed at them from across the table. From that reaction alone, they hoped that the woman’s death was slow.

Unfortunately, it looked as though they were not going to receive their answer as, right then, the noise that had remained at a comfortable background hum for the majority of their conversation, flared up into an uproar for a split second before being silenced by a gunshot. A very familiar gunshot to be exact.

“Ah, I think we should talk about this somewhere more private Viper, the atmosphere here is starting to grate on me.”

That said, the Sun hopped from the bench and started to edge his way over to the door. Unfortunately, that left the information broker in a rather difficult situation.

As much as it might dent their pride, they knew when to admit defeat.

“Mou… Reborn… how exactly do I move him?”


	5. Danger Signs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi guys, sorry it's so late. I've been working on something for my students that's kinda been draining my free time. Still, I hope you enjoy this new chapter.

From his place on the outer edge of the circle, Verde had a clear view of everything. Admittedly, this reclusive position didn’t give him much chance to interact with the meeting itself, but he didn’t much care. From here he could see everything, watch everything and for him, that knowledge was more powerful than any input could have been.

Reborn was hiding something.

Oh, it wasn’t obvious, truthfully the scientist might not have even noticed it himself had he not been hyper focused on the Hitman. Ten years working together, and he was positive that no one could be as dangerous as this particular Sun. The man’s raw power combined with his penchant for ‘Chaos’ left him a true wildcard. A wild card with the destructive ability of an atom bomb. If Verde kept track of the world’s ever-growing arsenals (and he did, compulsively) the he was sure to memorise the faintest twitches and micro expressions that made up the Hitman’s tells.

Fedora tilted 13 degrees further forward than normal: enough to obscure the man’s eyes, but not enough to look like he was hiding them. Secretive.

Left hand buried in a blazer pocket: fisted in such a way that the others would assume it to be wrapped around the grip of a pistol, but he could clearly see the faint trembles that betrayed a hidden tapping motion. Impatient.

Head positioned in such a way that the abundant sunlight fell entirely on its left side: the rest would think nothing of it, but Verde could see the way that Leon was dangling from the brim. While the rest would assume that the migration from the right to the left side to be nothing more than a search for warmth, but the scientist saw how it placed the chameleon in the perfect position for a quick draw. Defensive.

Yes, Reborn was hiding something. A thing that he was highly protective of and desperate to return to.

The most obvious answer would be that the Sun had finally found a Sky. The instincts of a newly formed Guardian bond would surely explain the irritation at being separated from their boss, and the innate possessiveness that they all shared would explain why Reborn hadn’t simply brought the Sky with him. To have ensnared an Element as strong as the Hitman, it was likely that the Sky was too powerful to Harmonize with other Elements. Powerful enough for them…

But Verde had heard nothing of the sort. If any of the active European families (and he knew the Sun hadn’t left the continent in the last year so it _had_ to be Europe) had managed to claim one of the Arcobaleno, and the World’s Greatest Hitman at that, the news would not have been kept quiet. In fact, it would have been more likely that they would have been announcing their new source of power for all to hear. That there had been no such news meant that there was no such Sky either.

What every was happening however, it was clear that their information broker was onto it as well. Well, clear for him.

Viper had always been one of the more irritating members to analyse, their propensity for illusions when coupled with their ever-present cloak meant that getting any sort of reading from the Mist was a precarious thing at most. Over the years however, he had been able to make out at least some of the German’s tells, even if something as simple as their gender continued to elude him.

Although the Mist and Sun were the members of their group who most often worked together given how their careers overlapped so often, there was always an aura of discomfort between the two. In fact, the stilted silence between the two of them was enough to say that Viper was probably the wariest of the Hitman beside himself. The bottom line was that the two did not linger near each other voluntarily.

While the distance was still there, the atmosphere between the two had shifted almost imperceptibly. They were trying to hide it, but he knew.

So, the two of them were working together to achieve something, something that mattered dearly to Reborn. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that…

On the one hand, the slight distraction of the chaos magnet meant that this meeting was progressing far smoother than any of their others to date. If this kept on the way it was and, by some miracle, Skull refrained from pushing Colonnello too far, it would mean that they would be done in less than a day where they normally took a week.

On the other, whatever the Hitman was planning was sure to blow up in their faces eventually.

So, to interfere or not to interfere, that was the question.

Hmm, more data was needed and that called for observation.

What sort of scientist would he be if he shied away from an opportunity to gather more data?

***************

This whole meeting was beginning to grate on his nerves and if it wasn’t for Viper’s frequent glares in his direction, Reborn was sure that he would have slaughtered each and every one of these imbecilic monkeys he was forced to call his teammates. As it was, he was being forced to cling heavily to the lingering thread of Harmony in his Flames just to rein in his more violent impulses. Even that wasn’t helping too much however, as it served as a constant reminder to just how large the distance was between him and his Sky at every given moment.

In all honestly, the Hitman believed that he should have been given an award for the sheer amount of restraint he had demonstrated over the last few hours. Not that Viper would ever give him one, he stingy brat.

Still, it wasn’t as though he could blame his agitation on anyone but himself at the present, it had been _his_ idea to leave their baby Sky in the hotel while they attended the meeting after all. Not something he normally would have allowed given how new the bond was and the fact that this course of action left the boy with no form of defence, other than his anonymity, in the absence. Unfortunately, it wasn’t something that they could have avoided.

In Reborn’s ever present ennui it appeared that he had quite lost track of time. Not for important things, and he had never once missed a deadline in his jobs, but for the larger problems…

Every year the Arcobaleno held a ‘meeting’ at the place where their bad luck had begun. Ostensibly, said meeting was for them to compare notes on the curse in case someone (Verde) had discovered something and chosen not to tell anyone. It also served as a way to make sure that no one (Skull) had managed to fall into a situation that would endanger the group as a whole, there by requiring the interference of the others in order to neutralize it.

Mostly, it just served as a major bitching session for all involved.

There was a reason the Sun had allowed himself to forget these yearly ‘pow-wows’.

As it was, he had managed to forget the date of said encroaching headache so thoroughly that he had completely missed the fact that it had only been a month away when he had discovered his little Sky. Since it had taken another week for him to have brought Viper into the fold, there really hadn’t been any time to think of any alternative courses of action.

Reborn couldn’t miss the meeting. As the strongest, and de-facto leader of their group, his absence would have been the best way to draw attention to his actions. As this was the exact opposite of what he wanted right now, he had to attend.

Similarly, Viper would have to be there too. Although lauded as the strongest Mist Flame of their age, the fact remained that there was still a faint bond between Viper and the rest of the set. If the broker attempted to send and illusion, some, if not all, of the others would have noticed, again leading to the amateur attempts of ‘investigation’ that was sure to see them dead at the end of a Chaos Shot.

Needless to say, their hands were tied, and now their little Sky was dozing happily in the nearest village, being entertained by Mist constructs while they wasted their time here. Not an ideal situation in anyone’s books.

Well, maybe not _wasted._

It had come to their attention, both as a product of this meeting and before now, that the two of them, while powerful, could not be everywhere at once. They couldn’t continue their search for answers while simultaneously suppressing any and all rumours that might emerge about their extended partnership. Especially not when one of them needed to be near the boy at all times in order to appease the child’s abandonment issues. Between the two of them they were managing, somehow, but it was running them ragged and they wouldn’t be able to keep it up much longer.

They needed help.

Just thinking those words saw the Hitman’s mouth attempting to curl into a moue of distaste, but he was able to cover it by sending a warning shot past the Lackey’s left ear.

He was the World’s Greatest Hitman. He worked alone. He didn’t need help.

It seemed like life had taken to proving that last statement with alarming regularity in the last few months.

Across the circle from him, he could just about make out his target shifting in place. It was a delicate act, observing without appearing to, but it was one he had perfected over the years. Unfortunately, his skills had little effect on someone who had trained their instincts in the pits of the Triad’s murder rings. Fon knew he was being watched; he just didn’t know why.

Surprisingly, picking the next potential Guardian for their Sky had taken only a second of thought on both of their parts. It was convincing themselves that it was necessary that took all of the time.

Fon had been the natural choice for both of them. He was strong, neutral and, if the information Viper had managed to dig up on him was correct, accustomed to working with children. If that wasn’t enough to win them over, there was also the overwhelming fact that he was the only one from their group that they could both tolerate. Considering their own power levels, it was highly likely that their Sky would _only_ be able to bond to Flames as strong, or even stronger than, the Arcobaleno.

They weren’t even going to think about the implications of that.

Still, Fon. Another reason why they had agreed, reluctantly, to attend this meeting. It was the one time of the year when they could be sure of where to find the Triads’ top enforcer. With how much the Martial Artist had been forced to work in order to maintain his titles after… that day, they really couldn’t afford to miss this chance.

Finally, the meeting was beginning to draw to a close and, while the Sun could almost feel the suspicious looks being sent his way due to his unusually subdued behaviour, he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. What was the point in causing trouble when each delay just added more time until he would be allowed to leave?

Not that their suspicion didn’t have _some_ benefits.

Deciding he had endured long enough; the Hitman spit out some venomous comment about having work to attend to before stalking out of the clearing. Well, he attempted to stalk. Unfortunately, a toddler’s body couldn’t quite manage such an act, so it was reduced to something more akin to a stumbling waddle than anything more dignified.

No matter, the sheer aura of death that the ‘child’ emitted was enough to quash all comments that might have been made otherwise.

Once sufficiently far enough to be out of sight, he paused. Not a second later, a faint shiver ran down his spine as he felt the full strength of Viper’s Mist wash over him. It was a discomforting feeling, and he wasn’t sure that he completely trusted the other, but right now it was necessary. Under the cover of the Mist shroud, he was able to slip up a nearby tree and wait for the others to pass by.

Fon was always the last to leave the clearing, preferring first to meditate and regain his perpetual calm at the end of each meeting. As such, it would be a simple matter for him to wait for the others to leave before looping back to corner his target.

Maybe he shouldn’t be thinking of a potential ally in the terms he would use for a Mark, but eh… old habits died hard. 

The first to leave was Verde. No surprise there, the Scientist made no secret of his distaste for their meetings. In fact, the Scientist seemed to harbour a grudge for humanity in general which made it surprising that he had managed to survive in the Bratva for as long as he had. And hadn’t that been a shock, to find the green haired man so deeply entrenched in the underworld after all the times he had condemned them for the same affliction.

Then it was Lal followed closely, as always, by a smitten Colonnello as the two of them snuck off for a ‘date-not-date’ that they were so sure they had managed to hide from the rest of them. Honestly, that relationship was sickening to watch, even when both of them had the bodies of toddlers. That much puppy love was sure to leave him with cavities if he was forced to look at them for much longer.

Viper didn’t even bother to leave the clearing by conventional means, preferring instead to just warp out of the area with an unnecessary display of power that had only become a habit after they had seen the true nature of their ‘employer’. Reborn would have made jokes about overcompensation, except for the fact that he didn’t have a death wish. And he didn’t want to face ghostly puppy eyes for the next few weeks for being ‘mean to Vi’.

Mostly the latter, if he was being honest with himself. 

Curiously, Skull was normally the second to last of them all to leave. Or maybe not. Fon was the only member of their group who was generally accepting of the energetic man-child that was their Cloud. It wasn’t unimaginable that he stayed those extra few minutes just to revel in the presence of someone who didn’t want to kill him for one day out of the year.

For someone who had been a civilian before the curse hit, the boy had managed to make a startling number of enemies in the ten years he had been a member of the Mafia.

But that wasn’t his problem. The Cloud was a walking disaster zone, and that was the nicest description he could afford him. There was no way that Reborn was ever going to let him anywhere near his little Sky, no matter what Viper attempted to argue.

Fon had empathy enough to deal with a traumatised child. They didn’t need the Lackey.

Now if only the brat would just leave, he would be able to carry out his self-assigned mission and return to the little spark of joy who had grabbed hold of the Hitman by his very soul. God, he needed to get a grip over these raw instincts before he ended up killing someone, that attempted kidnapper in the Parisian Catacombs notwithstanding.

That whole trip had been a disaster from the get-go. They had been overconfident due to their assumptions that the child’s ghost form spared him from any physical threat so had seen no issue with brining the boy with them as they went to examine some of the older scripts that Viper’s contacts had alerted them too. Neither of them had thought to shield the child from the ‘magic users’ that the Mist had been peripherally aware of. That had been their biggest mistake to date.

On the plus side, they had managed to find a large clue as to their Sky’ s identity from the hooded figure they had managed to detain and… talk to, after the event. And they had found that Reborn’s Flames acted as the perfect antidote to the little ‘stunning spell’ the attempted kidnappers had been so fond of.

Harry Potter.

Two very common names and, to their mounting fury, the child hadn’t been able to confirm if it was his or not. The revelation that the child thought of himself in terms of ‘boy’ and ‘freak’ had been enough that even Viper had been braying for blood. Reborn had just silently seethed, deeply regretting the almost peaceful death he had inflicted on the boy’s tormentors.

A name was a starting place however, and that was more than they had been able to find before. Apparently, the child had been dropped off on the doorstep of the Dursleys without going through the proper channels. It was no wonder that there had been no murder or missing child investigations attached to the family’s file, not when no one had even been aware that a second child e _xisted._

As soon as they were finished here, the three of them would be taking a private jet back to London where they would dig up anything and everything they could. No stone would be left unturned in their search for the Sky’s identity, that was for sure. Now if only Skull. Would. Just. Leave.

Honestly, it was a wonder he hadn’t seriously shot at the Stuntman yet. Test just how ‘immortal’ the man really was…

“That’s a scary look Senpai, makes me think you’re going to kill someone… again.”

Dammit, he was going to get that boy a damned bell. They may not have managed to find an actual use for the brat so far, but the fact remained that the Cloud was very good at disguising his presence when he felt the need to. It was probably something to do with just how loud the kid was naturally, it meant that when the Cloud was actually trying to be stealthy, it was far too easy to just overlook him. To the point that he was even able to sneak up on some of the best killers the underworld had to offer.

It was a terrifying ability. Not that Reborn let that show as he allowed his focus to shift down to the base of his perch where the flashy purple child was waiting. No point in boosting that already monstrous ego.

“What are you doing here Lackey?”

“I could ask the same of you Senpai. I thought you had a job to do?”

There was nothing more than innocent curiosity in those wide, amethyst eyes but suddenly the Sun’s instincts were flaring. Something in the back of his mind finally deciding to remind him that he was currently dealing the World’s Strongest _Cloud._ No matter how placid Skull normally acted, he was still a beast in human form.

“That’s none of your concern Lackey. Now leave. “

What ever the Cloud was thinking, it wasn’t something that he wanted to deal with right now, so it was best to just get the boy out of the way until he could talk to Fon. He didn’t have the time to deal with this right now. Unfortunately, it looked like Skull had chosen now to finally take a stand on something, and the faint glow that was beginning to spark up in the depths of his gaze was more than a little unsettling.

“See Senpai, you’re r _eeeeally_ smart, so maybe you can see a different side to this, but for me, well, it looks like you’re hiding out of the way, waiting for someone, probably Fon, while covered in Mist Flames, after telling us that you had a particularly difficult job… Want to explain it Senpai?”

Ah, well… maybe he should have been more conscious of what he had said before leaving, but he really hadn’t been thinking about it, too desperate to get everything here over with. And now it had backfired.

Still, who could have expected Skull to find him, let alone put the pieces together in such a damning (though not entirely inaccurate) way. Skull who was a Cloud. A Cloud who had found what he expected to be a threat to his only friend, his _territory_ …

In truth, there was only one real answer to that.

“I can explain…?”


End file.
